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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357811">we're the greatest, they'll hang us in the Louvre</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefliesandstarlight/pseuds/firefliesandstarlight'>firefliesandstarlight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Found Family, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, M/M, Team as Family, they go to the LOUVRE and have FUN and steal back one of joe's PAINTINGS and are HAPPY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:40:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefliesandstarlight/pseuds/firefliesandstarlight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The team takes advantage of a rare day off to go to the Louvre--as is tradition, whenever they find themselves with free time in Paris. Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andromache of Scythia &amp; Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani &amp; Nicky | Nicolo di Genova &amp; Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>209</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>we're the greatest, they'll hang us in the Louvre</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title from lorde's "the louvre"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“And you’re sure we won’t be recognized?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure, I’m sure. And besides, even if I wasn’t, it’s been over two hundred years! Who would be around to recognize us?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I dunno, Joe, that guard seemed pretty committed to his job. I wouldn’t put it past him to have become a ghost solely to bother us in the future.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joe, lounging on the sofa in their little rented living room and taking up literally the most space possible by himself, laughs. “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts, Andy.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t, but I’m not going to bet against that guard.” Andy walks over to the window and stares out at the streets of Paris, France, doing her best to hide her smile. “He was a determined little bastard.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nicky sits on a chair situated halfway between Andy and Joe, shaking his head at the memory. “I still don’t see why you had to try and take that painting in broad daylight, Joe. We could’ve waited.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> painting! Being held hostage behind glass against </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> wishes! I had every right.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Had every right to do what?” Nile plops down on the other end of the sofa, balancing on one foot in order to finish pulling on her sneakers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Take back a painting he lost--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I did not lose it! I misplaced it and then accidentally found it again, inconveniently.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“--that ended up in the Louvre.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Louvre</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Jesus, Joe, what did you paint?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was a sketch of Nicky! I thought it turned out very nicely, and I wanted it back, but the guard wouldn’t let me take it. Something about </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘voleur’</span>
  </em>
  <span> and ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>c’est illégal, monsieur, que fais-tu</span>
  </em>
  <span>’.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My french is still rusty, but I feel like that means, roughly, ‘Stop stealing paintings, Joe’.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re spot on,” Andy says with a grin, shooting Nile a thumbs up. “Who needs French lessons when you’ve got context, hey?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nile laughs. “What brought on this bout of nostalgia?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Joe wants to go to the Louvre.” Out of nowhere, Nicky’s holding four tickets covered in French-to-English translations and stylized pictures of the Mona Lisa. “Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to go to the Louvre. It’s kind of a tradition.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We take pictures with all the things we are older than,” Joe explains, sitting up and gesturing animatedly. “And try and steal back all my stuff.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>All</span>
  </em>
  <span> your stuff? As in, you have more than one painting wrongfully imprisoned in the Louvre?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There are a couple sculptures, too,” Nicky says nonchalantly, and Nile makes a choking noise. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>A couple sculptures</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Andy happily jumps on the baffle-Nile-bandwagon. “We’re not entirely sure which are his and which have been credited to various Renaissance artists,” she explains, walking over to a free chair and sitting down. “He went through a phase in the 14th century. Nicky had a hard time getting him out of the studio.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We had a lovely place in Italy,” Joe says, as if this makes it any less difficult for Nile to grasp. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hang on, hang on. I’m still… I’m still on the ‘Joe may or may not be responsible for a significant portion of popular Renaissance art,’ part.” Nile leans back on the couch and stares at her ragtag little family, all sitting in various degrees of solemnity around her. “And you’re sure you guys aren’t just messing with me?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How could I mess about such a thing? I never mess about Joe,” Nicky says, staring into Joe’s eyes, seemingly oblivious to Nile’s complete and utter bewilderment. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nile looks to Andy, her last hope. Andy just shakes her head. “I’m not messing, kid.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So! Are we ready for the Louvre?” Joe stands and claps his hands together, and Nile follows suit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to see this,” she says, and Joe grins. “Let me guess: there are an unholy amount of Renaissance works that are actually about Nicky.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not an </span>
  <em>
    <span>unholy</span>
  </em>
  <span> amount,” Joe muses, grabbing his coat from its peg and waiting for Nicky to join him by the door. “A </span>
  <em>
    <span>holy</span>
  </em>
  <span> amount, though… Nicky was a priest for a bit, after all.” He winks, and Nile groans. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m staying well away from the nude sculpture section.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wise, Nile. Very wise.” Andy slings an arm around Nile’s shoulders, and they stroll out the door in the wake of a very excited Nicky and Joe. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Louvre has a reputation as being one of the more crowded tourist spots in Paris, and it is certainly living up to expectations. It takes twice as long as usual for the team to wind their way through the masses to the pre-purchased ticket line inside the infamous glass pyramid; the line itself, though, occupies less than ten minutes of their time, and they’re in the museum before Joe can say “</span>
  <em>
    <span>vol d’art”</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Which way first, love?” Joe asks Nicky in murmured Italian. Nicky answers just as quietly, in Arabic, and they wave goodbye to Andy and Nile and start walking down the hall toward the sculptures. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If they’re starting down here first,” Nile says, turning to face Andy, “then what’d’you say we start at the top floor and work our way down?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Andy shrugs. “Works for me. As long as we hit the cafe for lunch, I’m happy.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Andy, c’mon! Look around, man! There’s so much history here, how can you just…” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s this.” Andy bounds up the stairs to the top floor three at a time, stopping once at the landing to glance back at Nile. “If you can find one single thing that remembers more history than I do, I’ll buy you lunch.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not fair!” Nile says, indignant, but she gets Andy’s point. Still, nothing is going to stand in the way of her and arguably the most famous art collection in the world, no matter how much Andy grumbles. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They start on the uppermost floor,--the second floor is closed for remodeling, a crooked sign on the stairs helpfully informs them, so that means floor 1--lined with sundry antiquities, jewels, and paintings Andy sideyes because “they’re barely as old as Booker! Who decided to put them with the ye olde empire stuff? Is there a manager I can talk to?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>(Nile, after some badgering and promises of early lunch, finally gets Andy to explain that when she says ‘ye olde empire,’ what she really means is ancient Greece, Rome, and/or Egypt. This is, of course, only after she dissuades Andy from bothering a security guard about finding the manager.) </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Andy is, however, an agent of chaos at heart, so once she lets Nile persuade her to move on from the Egyptian Antiquities to the Greek and Roman section of the same name, she plants herself in front of a display of vases and begins loudly recounting their origins. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, hey, I remember her! The woman on this vase, I used to know her, way back when.” She resolutely ignores the stares this statement earns her. “She was brilliant, nothing like--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay! Okay, Andy, thanks for that, that’s great.” Nile drags Andy away from the Greek and Roman Antiquities, Andy making herself difficult and trying to yell one last factoid about an amphora. By the time they manage to get to the Italian paintings, just across the hall, both Nile and Andy are grinning. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Way back when’, huh?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, I had to come up with something on the spot. All things considered, I think I was pretty convincing.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean that </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> you flaunting immortality, it was just you trying your very hardest to make me drop dead of a heart attack in the middle of the Louvre?” Nile nudges Andy’s arm. “You’re making Copley’s clean up job so much harder.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“First of all, you’d be fine,” Andy says, traipsing innocently over to the first painting she sees. “And second, it’s not like Copley has anything better to do. Might as well have a little fun.” She winks at Nile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nile stands in front of the next painting over, hands deep in her pockets. “This is amazing.” She points to a corner of the canvas, where a man in a robe slightly brighter than the rest kneels, facing the canvas edge. “Look at the details! The color!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Want to guess which ones Joe did based solely off of how many of the people look like Nicky?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm.” Nile makes a show out of considering Andy’s idea for as long as she can keep a straight face. “Who am I kidding? Hell yeah!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoever wins has to buy me lunch!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why is it you getting the free lunch? Why not me, huh?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Live for 6000 years, then we’ll talk.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s fair.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this one me, Joe?” Nicky mirrors the pose of a sculpture that has clearly seen better days: head lowered, one hand held high. “I think it has my nose.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, this one isn’t mine,” Joe says, though he walks as close to it as the cordons will allow and examines it closely. “The chin, see? The chin isn’t yours. I’m better at chins than this.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nicky nods. “Picture?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you even have to ask?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joe puts his arm around Nicky and grins into the disposable camera he bought just for this very occasion. Nicky smiles and puts up bunny ears behind Joe’s head-- he learned of this trend approximately ten years after it was no longer cool, but he still thinks it’s the most hilarious thing he’s seen in at least two hundred years. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, </span>
  <em>
    <span>habibi</span>
  </em>
  <span>, where to next?” Joe pockets the camera and takes Nicky’s hand. “I’m thinking we finish up in this section and head over to the Near Eastern art.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s still so much more to see here, though! I’m convinced at least half of these are yours.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You have a point, but Nile’s sending me a flurry of ‘help-me-Andy-is-telling-a-security-guard-to-his-face-that-he-quote- “fundamentally misunderstands the Baroque era”-and-he-is-getting-suspicious’ texts, and I worry we might get kicked out in record time.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How about we go help Nile and then come back?” Nicky gently swings their hands, already walking towards the stairs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joe nods, taking the steps in time with Nicky. “Worst case, that old security guard is possessing this one, and we end up fleeing Paris, chased by a ghost.” They turn on the landing in perfect sync and keep going up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Exit, pursued by Frenchman,” Nicky says solemnly, and Joe laughs so loudly a few people turn to look. Nicky grins, a quiet thing reserved for Joe and Joe alone, and Joe squeezes his hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It is not hard for Joe and Nicky to locate Nile and Andy. They find them immediately upon emerging on the first floor. Sure enough, Andy is engaged in lively conversation with an extremely confused security guard, and Nile is standing very very still in front of an old French painting and hoping she goes unnoticed as Andy’s companion. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Right at that moment, Andy says, gesturing directly at Nile, “Nile, tell him I’m right! Baroque art portrays mythic figures as humans, not the myths themselves-- that’s the whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>point</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nile turns a full one hundred and eighty degrees and intently studies the next nearest painting. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ni-</span>
  <em>
    <span>le</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me, sir, my apologies, my sister is very passionate about the arts.” Nicky comes out of nowhere, speaking smooth, fluent French, and when Nile sees him pat the security guard on the shoulder and send him on his way out of the corner of her eye, she sighs with relief. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Took you guys long enough,” she says, turning and rejoining the group. Joe and Andy look like they’re going to start giggling at any moment, but Nile ignores them. “Andy was about to get us all found out and banished.” Andy sticks her tongue out at Nile, and Nile can’t help it: she smiles. “And for the record, Andy, I have no idea how you managed to get into that conversation, but you were right.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes!” Andy pumps a fist. “I knew it! The very </span>
  <em>
    <span>idea</span>
  </em>
  <span> that the Baroque period wasn’t centered around the movement and drama of people is ridiculous.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nicky wonders aloud if there’s a certain level of artistic knowledge one is required to have in order to become a security guard at the Louvre, and if not, should there be? and the team happily clambers down that rabbit hole, alternating between spewing random facts about the Baroque period (Nile, mostly), and debating the necessity of art knowledge in a security job. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“One last stop, and then we’ll see about getting one of Joe’s things back, yes?” Nicky asks a few hours later, after they’ve gotten lunch at the museum café and spent an age and a half picking apart every last piece of art in the Denon Wing-- including the Mona Lisa. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, let’s do one last stroll through this wing, and we’ll go looking for that closed floor.” Andy, a bit out of breath after debating the details of the Mona Lisa with Nile for so long, points to a sculpture in the distance. “I’d like to see the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Winged Victory of Samothrace</span>
  </em>
  <span> one last time. Reminds me of home.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joe, who had interjected into the Mona Lisa debate only to point out how, objectively, the technique was shoddy and the lighting and background poor, (though whether the result of time or talent he couldn’t say), suggests stopping at </span>
  <em>
    <span>Saint John the Baptist, </span>
  </em>
  <span>too, mostly because he thinks the expression is funny. Nicky locates the disposable camera, and Nile offers to take their picture so that “You guys have more than just bad selfies when you go back to look at them”. Andy sneaks into the frame at the last second and deadpans at the camera, situating herself behind Nicky so it looks like she’s leaning on Saint John’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nile snaps a second shot just as the security guard rounds the corner and starts to yell at Andy for getting too close to the artwork. If one were to juxtapose the shots, the first would be Andy, sunglasses on, photobombing and having the time of her life; the second would also be Andy, but this time, her eyebrows are arched and her mouth is open in surprise, her sunglasses are missing, and she’s in the process of running away from an absolutely furious guard. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Exit, pursued by Frenchman, indeed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nicky and Nile double over laughing as Andy sprints down the Wing and rounds the corner by the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Winged Victory of Samothrace. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Joe hovers between concerned and amused until Andy suddenly reappears, breathing hard, behind them, having run the entire length of the wing and back to evade the guard-- then he, too, starts laughing hard enough that he has to find a bench and sit down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Louvre stays open until 9:45 twice a week. Lucky for the team, they chose one of those days to be there, and they use their time well. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Andy whispers, kneeling in front of a locked door she stumbled upon the last time she was here and is pretty sure leads to the closed floor. “Nile? Got any bobby pins?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nile holds out a small trove of pins she keeps in her pocket for occasions such as these--she’s found it’s easier to stop protesting and just help. “Any preference?” Andy silently takes one of the pins and nods her thanks. Nile gives her a thumbs up and stores the pins. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You should keep pins in your hair, Joe,” Nicky says softly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joe runs a hand through his hair. “I thought you liked it nicely tousled?” he says, pretending to be wounded by this. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Endearing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I believe was the word you used.”  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I do, Joe, but the pins, they’re useful,” Nicky says in Italian, and Joe relaxes into a beaming smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you anticipate pulling off more spontaneous heists in the near future, Nicolo?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before Nicky can answer, Andy gives the door a soft push, and it creaks open. All four of them hold their breath, but when no alarm goes off, they let go of the tenseness in their shoulders. “Stop flirting, you two. You’ll get us caught,” Andy says lightly, and Nicky grins. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They advance silently through the door, one after the other. Andy gives the bobby pin back to Nile, who absentmindedly shoves it back into her pocket. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is amazing,” Nile breathes, walking in a slow circle to take in the whole of the room Andy’s unlocked. “Absolutely amazing.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sense of drowsy peace and sensuous richness draped heavy over the room of stored artworks is shattered when Joe says, unceremoniously, “Look, Nicky! It’s you! Damn, I thought I’d lost this one for good!” Nicky jogs over to him, footsteps silent on the polished floor, and mirrors Joe’s exclamation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is the one, then?” Nicky’s already tugging on gloves he’s pulled from god-knows-where and sizing up the painting. “Your seascape era </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> lovely.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is the one,” Joe agrees, kissing Nicky’s cheek. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nile is still taking in the room, eyes darting from painting to painting and landing on a sculpture covered haphazardly by a sheet in the corner. “Oh my god, is that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rodin</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” She practically runs over to the sculpture, and moves aside the sheet like it's made of gold. “It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span>! It’s an </span>
  <em>
    <span>honest-to-god Rodin</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Andy takes everything in: Nile, in shambles over a two foot tall sculpture, absolutely over the moon to be seeing one of her favorite artists’ work in person; Joe, recounting the story of the painting he and Nicky are liberating, oh-so-gently uncurling it from the frame; and Nicky, the picture of grace, looking like a statue himself, replacing the now-empty frame against the wall and rolling up the painting once Joe is done rubbing a stain off of the corner. She smiles fondly, though she’d deny it for a billion years if any one of her team saw it, and says, largely to herself, “Guess I’m keeping watch, then.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>About an hour passes. The loudspeaker system has just reiterated a fifteen-minutes-to-closing warning in both French and English when Andy, from her station by the door, hisses, “Someone’s coming! Quick! Act natural!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Imagine, if you will, that you are a security guard working at the Louvre museum in Paris. Now imagine that you have had a very trying day, between the very scary woman lecturing you about the Baroque period at like eleven a.m. when all you wanted to do was complete your patrol around the wing, the absolute riot at the entrance after there was a ticket shortage, and the same woman standing too close to the artwork and running like hell when you were just trying your very best to do your job. Imagine, now, that you discovered a while back that you can take a break on the closed floor for a few minutes if you need to-- and right now, you really need to. And, last but not least, imagine that you enter said closed floor to see the following: </span>
</p>
<p> </p><ul>
<li><span>A woman who, at second glance, appears to be the same woman from your two previous encounters, casually doing a handstand in the corner of the room, her sunglasses inexplicably both on and staying in place </span></li>
<li><span>A man, standing under a discarded sheet in the middle of the room, standing perfectly still and seemingly pretending he is a statue </span></li>
<li><span>A second woman, kneeling next to a small sculpture, mimicking the pose of said sculpture and struggling valiantly to keep a straight face; she, too, looks familiar, and you recall the first woman calling her Jordan or something</span></li>
<li><span>And another man, whom you almost miss because he is on the fucking ceiling, limbs extended like a spider in order to hold him up, a suspiciously old, canvas-y looking roll on his back and the expression on his face so flat you take a step back in mild terror </span></li>
</ul>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Needless to say, you’ll forgive the security guard in question for putting a hand over his eyes, muttering, over and over, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Je ne vois pas,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” and backing out of the room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once the guard is gone, Nicky drops from the ceiling and lands on the floor with a perfectly executed roll, Joe’s painting on his back undamaged. Andy kicks off the wall and ceases her handstand; Nile stands and stretches; and Joe sheds his sheet and cracks his neck. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I cannot believe that worked,” Nile says, looking out the door the guard disappeared out of. “I thought for sure he’d freak out and turn us in.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“See, Nile? Bugging the guards has its advantages,” Andy says with a wink. Nile rolls her eyes and grins. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Nile! Do you want to put this sheet back over the Rodin?” Joe asks, holding out the sheet he’d used to hide under. “You seem to think he’s cool.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“‘He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>cool’</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Nile accepts the sheet and drapes it back over the sculpture with reverence. “He’s brilliant, more like.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh. All those guys blend together, after a while,” Nicky says, smiling at the expression on Nile’s face. “Only my Joe stands out with any force.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, </span>
  <em>
    <span>habibi</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Joe wraps Nicky in a hug. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is all very lovely,” Andy interrupts, “but I think we should probably get out of here before the guard remembers what the definition of his job is.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fair point,” Joe concedes. Nile waves goodbye to the Rodin and leads the way out of the room, letting Andy take over in the stairwell to get them all out the back door. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They’re a couple miles away from the Louvre, Joe’s painting folded lovingly in Nicky’s backpack, when the first police car races by. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Think they’ll ever catch the thieves?” Andy says dryly. Nobody tries to suppress their laughter. </span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading!! hope u enjoyed &lt;3<br/>kudos &amp; comments make my day!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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